


Authority

by Mafiagf



Series: Bill/Reader [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafiagf/pseuds/Mafiagf
Summary: Inspired by the events of Chapter 3, Bill is deputized and the reader cannot help but tease and play up to the unassuming authority figure. A follow up to previous fic, Lessons.





	Authority

Truth be told, you didn’t care too much for Clemens Point. It had done nothing to improve the preconceived ideas of the South you had stuck in your mind from those with experience in the area. There was more ignorance than you could stomach to listen to, and the age-old battle between two equally backwards and self-righteous families did nothing to sway your opinions. All this before the unbearable heat beating down every single day, the muggy air left you on the cusp of suffocation from dawn until a brief moment of peace was felt at dusk before the cycle renewed itself. This heat had caused endless irritation on your part, taking to sleeping outside to combat the tightness you felt in your own skin for some relief.

This news secretly delighted Bill, who had grown accustomed to sleeping in your tent, the heat proving too much for him as well. As well as this, he enjoyed the idea of sleeping together out in the open, letting everyone in camp see how comfortable and content the two of you were together even if they didn’t quite understand it. Whether intentional or not, Bill would nearly always end up lying on you through the nights when he wasn’t on guard duty at the edge of camp. The Lemoyne air might have been suffocating but Bill took it to new levels. The man radiated heat constantly, and his clinginess would seep through his dreams into reality when he’d throw a heavy arm over your side or hip to draw you closer. This would always bring a slight smile to your lips as you heard him sigh contentedly before deep rumbles would continue to sound his sleeping, but that was in Horseshoe Overlook – where nights would occasionally get chillier up in the hills.

This habit did not carry over well into the newest camp, but you couldn’t entirely bring yourself to mention it to him, he’d only recently gotten the confidence to be more affectionate around the others. A squeeze of your hip here, or sitting you on his lap or between his knees at the campfire late at night. Large and calloused fingers delicately tracing the side of your face up to meet your hair absentmindedly as he spoke those opposite the log. Where he would have gotten beet red at a peck on the cheek, he now found himself easing into affection regularly through either touch or offhand declarations of his feelings when either of you were to leave the camp.

You had settled into this routine lovingly, cradled between his knees, back against the log and his heated stomach behind your head as you finally dug into Pearson’s stew. The night was one of quiet celebration and degradation as local law enforcement had deemed Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan and your very own Bill Williamson fit to be deputized citizens of Rhodes. Not a single member of the gang believed the story, out all the schemes and plots they’d created to get closer to wealthy families or businesses, this had taken the cake. Dutch had made a grand show of them all when he’d returned with Arthur that evening, drawing everyone around from their chores and tasks to the centre of camp as he dragged a reluctant and obviously embarrassed Arthur into the retelling. Halfway through an overly dramatized series of events, Dutch loving every minute of the looks of awe and joy on the faces of the women and little Jack and even the bemused smirk of Hosea before a bellowing was heard.

“I AM A _GODDAMN_ DEPUTY!” The voice echoed and boomed, unmistakably that of Bill in sheer joy and astonishment at the day’s events. Dutch simply shrugged and lifted his hands in the air meekly, “That about sums it up I suppose!” He laughs, and the others join him as a clearly embarrassed Bill realises he’d interrupted. Dutch simply draws him close around the shoulders, and claps him on the chest, too overjoyed at the stupidity of the locals to even care about the interruption. The rest of camp begin to clap and holler, Mary-Beth and Karen nudge you to say something, having been silently beaming the entire time at how proud of himself Bill was. You realise their intention and as the group begins to break up to return to work and begin preparation for some celebrating, you continue clapping and walk forward to Bill. His chest is puffed out almost comically, so very proud of his position and his hands fall on his hips to emphasise his good mood. Before you get any closer to give him a well-deserved kiss, you raise your hands quickly to the sky and let a face of worry and fear crawl across your features. Bill takes a moment to catch on, before scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment once more.

“Please, I’m an innocent woman, Deputy Williamson! Honest!” You attempt to let your voice shake a little, approaching cautiously but ultimately it breaks and the laugh you were attempting to shield bubbles through the air. He moves forward then to grab you and lift you in the air, the feeling so alien and exciting at the same time. You couldn’t remember anyone doing this since you were a child, the joy of the simple action evident in your escaping mixture of a laugh and scream.

“Quit makin’ fun!” He huffs into your ear, but you simply pull away with wide eyes.

“Makin’ fun of what, Deputy?” You ask innocently, tone afraid and meek. You see a flash of a smile before he does his best to appear stern and mean, lips becoming a harsh line lost in his beard.

“You best not be sassin’, girl. I ain’t a kind man.” He growls, brows furrowed but eyes still glinting.

You tried not the laugh, you honestly did. It was the last part that set you off, you knew him too well at this point to picture him as the big and scary bear of a man he portrayed himself to others. His shoulders sag at your reaction and whines while you laugh wildly, tears beginning to form.

“What?! I was tryin’!” He barks as his voice goes shrill, trying to get your attention over your laughter, having turned quiet in an effort to calm yourself but the odd exhale of a laugh manages to escape here and there. You pull him in for a kiss, feeling his lips press into a smile against yours. Letting you know he forgives the teasing. You pull apart from each other, and begin to admire the star adorning his blue flannel. You think to remember to ask why he’s still wearing it at all given the heat, before remembering a late-night conversation where he admitted to certain insecurities. He watches your face, noticing the slight furrow or your brow but before he can query it he overhears Hosea calling for him to unload some of the recovered moonshine from the wagon. You pat the badge over his heart and squeeze his hand in yours before returning to your meal preparation with Pearson.

You don’t see much more of each other until the meal is served, and drinks are hoisted to the three men for their work today. You toast them together, hearing a moving speech from Hosea about the progress they’re making with the two families and their legendary lost fortune. His words about family, loyalty and how close they are to retiring from this life to a faraway paradise don’t leave your mind for the rest of the night as the celebrations begin. Nursing the beer in your hand you watch Bill at the fire with Cain at his side, and John and Arthur in deep conversation that gets broken up with his trademark giggling and John’s rasps of breathless laughter. Your eyes move from them to the front of Dutch’s tent where he dances lazily with Molly, whispering to each other as they move in tandem to the spinning phonograph sat inside. Several sources of song are to be heard tonight, if not from Dutch’s tent then from Javier singing with Karen and Sean or Uncle’s ditties alongside Ms Grimshaw, Lenny and Mary-Beth at the smaller tables along the water. A deep sigh leaves your chest, enjoying the moment of peace after all the bloodshed in Valentine with Cornwall’s men. You knock back the final dregs of the beer, before settling it into the empty crate by Pearson’s wagon and retrieve another, deciding to let the good times roll and make your way to Bill and the others. Slightly tipsy himself, he drags you over to his lap immediately and you settle in comfortably with your arm around his neck and lacing your fingers into his thick hair. The conversations carry on and shift from the serious, the pitiful and ridiculous and the audience changes over time as people eventually retire to their bedrolls for the night. All the while you continue to drink and settle as close as possible to the man beneath you, whose holding his liquor far better than you. The only real effect it ever had on you was surges of giddiness and laughter from nowhere, when it wasn’t that extreme it was near falling asleep when you stood. Noticing your laughter dying down in his ear, Bill takes a swig from the whisky bottle and sees your eyes forcibly closed and deep breaths coming from your nose as you shifted to get comfortable against him. He smiles at the sight, and rests his bottle against the log before carefully moving you off his lap, essentially dragging you to your feet. You protest and whine and try to move away from him, having been too settled against his chest but Bill does not comply and lifts you over his shoulder, earning a shriek from you but little protest follows when he places you onto the shared bedroll, his weight carefully placed on top of you to keep you where you are. You eye him through hazed vision and bring your hand to his cheek and take several sections of his beard through your fingers. He shakes his head and brings his own hand to meet yours, before kissing your forehead and telling you to rest up. You stretch languidly, hearing several pops that are slightly concerning but then again, what’s outlaw life without a few aches and pains? “I’ll miss ya” You mumble as he begins to turn back the others, he looks over his shoulder and sees you already fast asleep on your stomach.

The remaining out of tune singing and laughing does little to wake you, it had become an almost necessity for your sleeping to have some sort of knowledge that the others were alright, more than alright actually with the level of noise you’d grown accustomed to. Even on the nights your dreams were peaceful and the camp grew still after the day’s events, you would occasionally jump and wake yourself. A habit Bill rarely noticed even with him almost always on top of you or as close as physically possible, his breathing even and unaffected. You constantly irritated yourself when this happened, and tonight was no different. The small jump left you unable to return to sleep, and you let a small groan escape tight lips and attempted to settle, determined to get some rest. As always however, it escaped you and made you more restless and frustrated. You turn to your side, eyes opening in the dark to find you alone. You could make out the shape of Charles on his side, long hair tumbling down his shoulders to the dark bedroll underneath.

The air around you is silent, only the breaths from Charles and the shaky wheezes of Hosea on the far side. Confused and curious, you sit up slowly and reach up the crates beside you to retrieve the lantern and pocket watch you saw earlier. It was close to four in the morning, where was he? Your head ached slightly, you were grateful it wasn’t worse. You hadn’t much experience with hangovers and didn’t exactly want any more. You moved to your side and rose from your knees, trying to be as quiet as possible when you’re still slightly drunk. Finally standing, you move your hands around the crates to find your boots, the grass proving too wet to forego them entirely. Looking up you make out the faint glow of a lantern at the top of the hill at the entrance to camp. In a hurry to investigate, you almost fall on top of a still sleeping Charles trying to pull your boots on but manage to catch yourself with a relieved sigh on the crate. You prove more successful with the second and begin the short walk to the lantern, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start the slight climb. The closer you get, after wiping the sleep from your eyes you recognise the form of Bill cast in the shadow of the lantern’s glow. “Tonight wasn’t his night, was it?” You had thought he wasn’t until tomorrow, or today you supposed. You recalled the conversation of doling out the guard duty for the next few weeks, but your brain was too fogged to quite recall.

He heard your approach easily, the only sound around him being the crickets in the long grass. His face softens when he recognises you, the warm light illuminating and emphasising his dark eyes. You bring your arm to his shoulder and rest your head against him, watching the post with him. “I didn’t know it was your turn tonight, is it not Sean’s?” Your question almost lost in a deep yawn that rattles through you. Bill’s hand rests on your back, rubbing small circles on the fabric of your shirt and he hums to himself.

“Yeah. Well, well he wanted to bring, uh Karen into town for a bit. So…I said I’d cover for him” He mumbles into your hair, continuing to draw you close against him.

You pull back to smile up at him, “You are such a softie” You tease with a laugh.

He avoids your eye in the light and looks past you to the trees, shaking his head. The two of you the only voices to hear at all in the night.

“I just didn’t want to hear them two goin’ at it! Best to get ‘em out of here, that’s all.” He says gruffly, never quite ready to admit that he himself knows what it’s like with budding relationships and no privacy. You roll your eyes at this watch him move past you to the crate carrying the lantern, retrieving the whisky bottle he’d had earlier that night. He brings the bottle to his lips, enjoying the quiet with you at his side. His hand on your back moves lower, and rests on your hip. When the bottle leaves his lips you move forward to take its place, tasting the droplets that wet the hairs around his lips. That feeling of peace and relief at Hosea’s speech return that moment, letting you deepen the kiss and move closer between his legs now pushing him against the hitching post behind him. Before the two of you continue, he breaks the kiss reluctantly with a contented sigh against your lips.

“I can’t get too distracted from the job y’know? And you’re awfully good at doin’ that” He points out, but you hear in his tone he doesn’t want to break up the intimacy brewing at that moment. You smile wickedly, and turn your back all the while keeping that contact from before, brushing against his trousers purposefully. You can hear him exhale through his nose, a tiny laugh escapes him.

“This any better, Deputy?” You tease quietly

His right-hand snakes around your middle to your belt buckle, holding you against him there.

“That’s some good thinkin’. Don’t want the prized prisoner slinkin’ away on me. If you’re honest, I might let you off. You are ain’t ya?”

“I told you I was! I’m not as bad as they say, sir” This gets his attention, you feel the hand on your buckle grasp a little tighter, pulling you even closer against his front. You smirk to yourself, sure that he can see it through the dim lantern light.

His breaths behind you get deeper, a low rumble in your ear now overtakes the sound of the crickets. He grinds slightly against you, the friction of his trousers on your worn jeans letting you know he’s enjoying this banter. Not that you couldn’t guess already, he’d been half hard earlier that day with the Deputy teasing.

You see his left hand raise the whisky bottle again, this time to examine it in the light. Turning it for you to see, before he takes another swig of the hearty liquid.

“Trying to bribe an officer of the law ain’t so honest, girl.” He warns, your stomach heats at this, it begins to pool as you feel his dark eyes on your form. You decide to play it up a little, letting a tremble escape you and reverberate backwards towards him and his aching cock trapped in his trousers. You try to think of something to respond with but you’re still hazy mind can’t think of much, feeble stutters the only thing to come out before he shushes you.

“Now, now. I ain’t gonna get mad, alright? Why don’t we share, huh? Then it ain’t so bad, is it?”

He raises the bottle to your own lips, the eye contact searing now as he tilts the whisky higher to give you more. Slightly too much in actual fact, trails of the heated liquor make their way from the edges of the rim down your chin to trail onto your chest. He studies the sight before him, another small thrust is made to grind you against him, slightly rougher this time. You simply look over your shoulder at him, making a show of retrieving the lost alcohol with your tongue, before he finishes the job for you. He leans down quickly to lap the extra droplets from your skin, making sure to gather every splatter with an equally wet, sloppy kiss to the delicate skin there. When he’s finished he continues to kiss you there, moving upwards to the side of your neck to resume the onslaught of his tongue on your skin. Your breath hitches and you move backwards against him again, his right hand begins to remove the shirt you had tucked into your jeans, the force of which shows how impatient he is. The light teasing earlier had not left his mind, he’d rather enjoyed the roleplay and had no intentions of stopping now. Little thought was given to the job at hand, the camp had been silent all night. No reason he couldn’t have a break, right? You were here, happy and warm against him, and he wanted nothing else.

His calloused hands reached under your shirt, tracing the heated skin to his objective. He cupped you beneath your clothes and squeezed slightly too hard. Just as he knew you preferred, the little marks here and there a welcome reminder. His lips moved from your neck to your jaw, where he began to speak lowly in your ear through the mess of hair that fell in the way. His hot breath tickled your ear each time he grunted out a word.

“You know what, girl? I believe you. I don’t think you’re as bad as they say. I don’t think an outlaw like that’d give it up so easy.” He huffs out, hand removing itself from your shirt to begin unbuckling your jeans. You let out a whine at his words, the loss of contact on your chest and then the sudden presence of two large and heated fingers making their way to your aching core. You know already that you’re wet, the dark laugh behind you only confirming it. His fingers meet your clit instinctively, far too accustomed to each other to pretend otherwise as this scenario would call for. He laughs quietly at the sensation, breaking from role to kiss your cheek passionately before composing himself. His own hips beginning to thrust against you with everything proving overwhelming.

“That good, girl? Sure as shit must be, you’re soaked all the way.” He laughs menacingly before dipping one of his fingers into you, which may as well have been two of your own. From all the teasing, talk and desperate touching going on, you buck forwards to intensify the sensation and fill yourself more. He lazily curls and thrusts his finger deeper inside, other hand bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking deep before casting it aside. He watches you then trying to move forward enough to drive him deeper as well as driving backwards against his strained erection. Knowing he won’t be able to go again after the night of drinking and the display before him, Bill uses his left arm to snake around your waist and pull you closer before sliding another finger into you. The addition almost makes you cry out, hands grasping the thick forearm around you for some grounding.

“Ya gonna come, girl? This quick, huh? This easy?” Bill mocks behind you, trying to keep you from grinding any further against him should he instead. You nod erratically, leaning forward in an attempt to reach that high any way possible. His fingers slide effortlessly out of you and he relishes in the heated walls that surround and constrict around him, bringing his thumb to circle and rub your clit. You’re very nearly there now, just a little more will do the trick. Bill sees this in the hitching of your breath and pathetic whines coming from your tightly closed lips, he responds by dragging his thumb to the side. The nail gently scratching and pinching your clit before growling in your ear “God fucking damn, girl! I think I should let the other boys get their turn, huh?”. This is the final straw, the mixture of his rough touching and speech proving too much for you. He feels you grip his fingers like a vice, a proud smile spreads across his face as he feels you come on his fingers. He thought you might have slapped him and stormed off at the mention of Dutch and Arthur, but what do you know? It did the trick, and you were left panting and weak against his chest like a ragdoll. He continued to finger you as he came down, dragging it out and kissing your neck, jaw and cheek sloppily. You move your face towards him, meeting his lips and sighing into them. He trails his other hand across your cheek gently, miles apart from his persona in the last few minutes. He holds you against him for a while, enveloped in the quiet night air once again. Though you stand against him, with your jeans around your ankles you could have fallen asleep then and there. Until you realised he was still as hard as a rock in his trousers behind you. The two of you had chanced it once already, there’s no harm in one more round. You smile up at him and whisper through uneven breaths

“You aren’t gonna let me off that easy, are you, sir?”

Bill licks his lips, and nods slowly before looking around once more.

“No way in hell, girl” He grumbles and roughly places you on the ground. Enough to feel manhandled, but not enough to feel frightened of the larger man. You watch him begin to undo his own belt, before his eyes fall back on you on the grass.

“Turn around. Get on all fours, missy” He barks and you quickly comply, feeling heat rush to your face at the thought of it all.

“I ain’t gonna risk my job for the likes of you. If somebody comes by, well they can just watch me fuck you can’t they? Maybe even join in.” He barks at you lowly, grasping your hips backwards to him and pressing a hand against your back to push you into the grass. His words making you wet again, you hadn’t ever entertained the idea of being watched or joined by a third party but the way he sounded right now made you wish someone would come along. You hear the sound of him touching himself, low huffs unmistakable even in the dark. You try to rub your thighs together to alleviate the ache somehow but he just places a knee between your legs to stop you, a hand squeezing your ass hard as a warning before he enters you in one. You hadn’t needed any stretching after what happened but the feeling of him filling you in one go made you shiver and groan, not expecting it at all but relishing the feeling as you huffed into your shirt sleeve.

As you did so, Bill on the other hand was far too engrossed watching his cock slide into you entirely coated in your come from earlier. This earned greater groans from the both of you as you could have sworn he was deeper than ever inside you. This position was a quick favourite of the both of yours as it was, but it had never felt this exquisite. The slapping of skin, his heavy balls hitting against your folds is the only thing you hear above his grunted curses and moans. He pulls you tighter against him and allows himself to rest on your back, the feeling of his heaving chest and gut on you pushes you further into the grass. One of his hands slides under the both of you, returning to its previous position at your clit now aching and hot. The friction of his fingers as you push back against him and his hips pounding you down onto the damp grass left you speechless and dazed, but mind entirely blank.

“You’re so goddamn tight…” He whispers through gritted teeth, all you can do is groan in response as his fingers rub harder on your clit bringing you closer to the edge once more.

“I fuckin’ love this...I love you” He grunts into your ear, before kissing your cheek once more. The admission the first shared between you at all, making your eyes snap open at the sound. You reach beneath you to clutch the hand rubbing furiously between your legs, gripping him tightly and nodding your head frantically at his admission, in response to it and to guide yourself forward to orgasming the second time that night. Your hand grips at his beneath you, nails digging into the flesh to keep him close. As if he had anywhere to go, but follow you over the edge. The feeling of you contracting around him again spurred him on, sounds now becoming obscene to the ear. His hazed mind somehow managed to remember he needed to pull out, as much as the thought of filling you with his come almost had him finish there and then. He kept this in mind with his final few sharp thrusts into your welcoming heat, before pulling out and finishing onto your back with a few quick jerks. He held onto your hip, trembling slightly and noticed you did the same. He lifted your shirt further up your back to kiss and remove his spend from your skin softly in between gasps and breaths. The heat that had built between the two of you began to recede, leaving your trembling shift entirely into shivering on the grass, unable to will your legs to move. Bill sat on his haunches, gathering himself back into his trousers and buckling his belt once more all the while watching you try to recover on the ground. A flash of worry comes over him, kneeling forward to brush your hair back from your heated face. Instead of the teary eyes he feared he’d see, he saw only a tender ones, framed by flushed skin. He let out a shaky sigh, looking away for a moment before you gently called his name. “I-I thought I hurt you…” He admits when he meets your eyes again.

“I’m fine, big guy. More than fine, just...exhausted to be honest” You laugh slightly, managing to turn onto your back slowly. Bill helps you back into your jeans, too shaky to do so alone. With you in his lap, hands around his neck you watch him focus on your belt. He proves oblivious to your gaze, so you bring a hand to his cheek to guide his eyes back to you.

“I love you too, y’know?” You whisper to him in the shade of the lantern and watch him immediately move his eyes away, embarrassed at having admitted something so serious during a rough fuck. As far as he’d come in terms of affection and confidence in your time with him, making this giant of a man a blushing mess was something you would never grow weary of.

Before anymore words are spoken, you both turn to hear an approaching horse. Bill jumps to his feet, fetching his rifle that he set against the hitching post earlier. The animal slows down, and you let Bill pull you behind him as he lifts the weapon in preparation.

“Would you fuckin’ put that away! It’s me, ye thick!” You both roll your eyes at the hushed slurs of Sean, watching himself and Karen appear in the dim light. They both were pretty drunk and didn’t seem to think anything of the two of you up here so early in the morning. Sean simply hitches his horse, before falling over his own feet in the mud. Karen only laughs, incredibly loudly before jumping down to help him. The two attempt to shush the other in between giggles and snorts and Sean tips his hat to you both in thanks before making their way through camp, meeting an agitated John along the way. They manage to make more noise than possible, with Sean completely falling over the simmering stew with a shout. The hot liquid pours onto the grass, no doubt there’d be a war in the morning over the mess but right now neither of you could care.  John arrives alongside the two of you and mid yawn tells Bill to go get some rest, his shift finally finished. You catch the yawn then, exhaustion seeped into your bones and wave goodnight to him as he leans against the post with a cigarette already lit. Yourself and Bill walk back down to the bedrolls hand in hand, his own rubbing yours before letting you lie down first. He stretches upwards, shirt riding up to reveal the dark hair underneath before he sets his hat aside and lays down beside you. Tonight, you relish the overbearing heat he provides, resting your head across his chest while his hand holds your lower back. You mightn’t have cared too much for Clemens Point but damned if you didn’t love it right now.


End file.
